Classic Poem

Dear finless babe, whose peaceful room
Centers within thy mother's womb;
Whose mind's unspotted, spirit pure,
As happy (doubtless) as obscure.
Whom having never seen, I love,
And breath my ardent soul above,
That Heav'n its richest gifts may give
To thee, my infant, should'st thou live.

What unknown cares obstruct my rest,
What new emotions fill my breast!
I count the days so oft retold,
E'er I my infant can behold.
Thought after thought intrudes a dart,
And strange forebodings fill my heart.

Perhaps the time which gives you life,
Deprives Eusebius of his wife;
And you for circling years may spare,
Who ne'er will know a mother's care.

Perhaps some rude ungentle hand
Thy infant footsteps may command;
Who, void of tenderness and thought,
Too harshly menaces each fault.
Oh; thought too poignant! may'st thou die,
And breathless with thy mother lie.
But dare I Heaven's designs o'erthrow;
Come, resignation, quickly flow;
Say, to fond Nature's fears, be still,
And bow me to th' Almighty will.

Perhaps I yet may live to see
My child grow up, and comfort me,
And if I die—perhaps my shade
My darling's footsteps may pervade.
Sleepless myself, thy eye-lids close,
And guard thee whilst in soft repose:
And if you e'er attain thirteen,
These lines may by my child be seen;
For then your mind may comprehend
What once your anxious mother penn'd.
Here I would ev'ry wish impart,
And ope my darling all my heart.

I wish the child, I call my own,
A soul that would adorn a throne!
With keen sensations, soft, refin'd,
A noble, but an humble mind.
Be courteous, prudent, virtuous, wise,
Each friend's instruction always prize.
And if you're cast in learning's way,
Improve each moment of the day,
And grasp at knowledge whilst you may.
With richest freight your memory store,
And prize it more than golden ore.
For riches you may loose and spend,
But knowledge is a lasting friend.

Be strictly honest, strictly just,
On no pretence betray your trust.
If any to your breast confide
A secret——there let it abide.
Whate'er you promise bear in mind,
Each promise should to action bind.
From low deceits and falshoods fly,
Nor dread a serpent as a lie.
For should you e'er the name acquire,
As some I've known—a common liar,
A common thief my child, would be
By far more excellent than thee.

In some you'll find a constant flame
To vilify their neighbour's name;
But mark that woman, mark the man,
And shun their converse if you can:
For such, as thus dispos'd, you see
When thou art gone, speak ill of thee.
But, if with such obliged to meet,
Like prudence, shew yourself discreet;
And if you're urg'd, as oft I've known,
To join with them to cast a stone;
Rather appear to know it not,
Than help thy neighbour's name to blot:
Thus you may find evasions good,
Well tim'd and rightly understood;
But 'twould be wrong should you conceal
Faults which obstruct your neighbour's weal;
And doubly wrong if you evade,
What known would honour—not degrade.
Hence your own judgment must disclose,
When to conceal, and when expose.

Are any plac'd beneath your care,
Of proud austerities beware;
Let ev'ry word and action prove
You'd win their services by love.
Be soft and gentle, tender, mild,
E'en from the servant to the child;
Yea, let each insect, bird, and beast,
Within your sphere, your goodness, taste.
Must you destroy a worm or fly?
With quickest motion let it die:
Nor let a creature e'er complain,
You gave one moment's needless pain.
They but a savage heart expose,
Who trifle with a reptile's woes.

Whate'er you want, to God make known,
If meet,—your wishes are your own;
Make him your confidant alone,
His laws obey, his voice attend,
And then you'll never want a friend.